


Silent Eyes

by Tarlan



Series: Silent World [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-19
Updated: 2002-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Day Out West</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Eyes

_  
In silent dreams, we sleep together  
Holding you tight, holding you tight 'til morning comes:  
With silent eyes, we see each other,  
I'm looking at you, I'm looking at you, you look at me.  
 **Silent World**_ by **Chris de Burgh**

****

A single gunshot echoed through the town as the seven riders drew close. They reined in hard, exchanging concerned glances before urging the horses onwards once more at a slower pace.

Chris's gaze swept back to the man riding by his side, unsurprised to find those blue eyes waiting to make contact. He gave a sharp tilt of his head and saw Vin purse his lips in understanding, responding with a slight dip of his own head. They had no idea what was up ahead but quickly agreed it might be better if they strung out a little as they entered the town. Vin pulled ahead with Nathan by his side, the others stringing out behind Chris and Buck.

The first thing Chris noticed was the absence of people on the street, except for a lone black-clad figure holding a sawed-off coach gun. He saw movement in the shadows, the twitching of curtains at windows, that proved the townsfolk were there but in hiding.

Ghouls.

Chris felt a moment of contempt for the people who waited and watched, almost sensing their lust for blood. These were the same people who crowded to public hangings, taking bets on how many twists of the rope it took before the unfortunate victim finally succumbed to the noose stretching his neck. He turned his attention back to the lone stranger.

The man was standing in the middle of the street, the stagecoach behind him, Watson's hardware store ahead of him, and as Chris drew closer he noted that the man was past his prime, but he also saw the determined expression that said this man meant business. In front of the stranger, standing on the boardwalk just outside the hardware store, were three more men, all with fingers twitching as if readying to draw and shoot.

Chris frowned as that busybody editor, Mary Travis, rushed up to the lone gunman, only falling back a few feet when told to move away. He grimaced in annoyance. If she didn't move to a safer distance then she was liable to get shot and, if there was one thing Chris hated more than anything, it was seeing innocent woman and children caught in the crossfire. However, it wasn't his place to go telling people what they should or should not do. This wasn't his fight.

The Seven dismounted a short way back, leading their horses the remainder of the way into town so as to avoid becoming an untimely distraction. Chris watched as Vin leaned against the hitching rail close to the three men, blues eyes narrowed as he listened in on the conversation between the strangers. The obvious leader of the three men had yet to notice any of the Seven, his attention taken up completely by the man standing in the middle of the street. Behind the three, partially concealed in the shadows within Virgil Potter's store, Chris could make out the shape of a prone man, but something told him that man was dead. Having just come across the scene, Chris knew it would be easy to make an assumption that the three men were the killers, probably killed the store owner during a robbery, but looks could be deceiving. His only real clue was the concern Mary Travis paid to the lone man's safety, knowing she was unlikely to harbor goodwill to the killer of one of her own people.

Nonetheless, Chris felt intrigued by the scene. He felt like he'd been swallowed into one of those Dime novels that JD had shown him, feeling the tension in the air without the gut-wrench that accompanied fights where he was the one facing down another man. That thought stopped him in his tracks. Reading about such an incident, or watching a play was one thing but standing around while the real drama played out made his flesh crawl, making him feel like a ghoul.

The leader of the three men on the boardwalk made it clear that the man standing before them was out-gunned but Chris could see no sign of fear on the lone gunman's face. If anything, the man's face grew even harder, with a slight twist of contempt, and Chris knew there would be no backing down. Chris started to turn away. This wasn't his fight and he wasn't going to stand around waiting for the blood to spill. He was no ghoul.

"Hardly seems fair."

Chris gave a wry smile and turned back as the gravelly voice floated across to him. It looked as though Vin had chosen to get involved, confident that Chris and the others would back him up if necessary. Sure enough, Nathan carried on forward, adding his support in a single word, a similar expression of disdain on his face, as if he and Vin knew more about this than they were telling. That would come as no surprise to Chris as both men had been in the town a little longer than he had, and so they would have far more knowledge of the undercurrents that had turned this frontier town into almost a ghost town.

The wry smile turned to a grin as he watched the play unfold before him, with Buck making a show of his support by stepping right into the line of fire then turning to walk towards the three men.

"Why, howdy boys."

Buck brushed passed the dark-clad cowboy on the left of the leader and Chris enjoyed the confusion springing into the man's eyes as Buck lowered himself into a chair, leaving the man very aware that his back was now exposed to an unknown gunman. No one else moved so Chris decided he had a choice; he could walk away, or he could take this as his invitation to back up Vin, Nathan and Buck and enter the scene. Three to one against had become four to three in favor but Chris was not about leave Vin to fight without him. He moved behind Mary Travis, his spurs making hardly a sound, and he came to rest beside the dark-clad, older man.

Three sets of eyes darted nervously between the men they could see and then flicked back to try and locate the gunman seated behind them; the leader's voice a little less confident as he addressed Chris directly.

"You stay out of this, cowboy. It ain't your fight."

Chris smirked softly; realizing this was his cue to invite the others to take part in this potentially dangerous performance.

"He just call me a cowboy, JD?"

"I think he did, Mr. Larabee."

"At least once."

Ezra gave all the appearance of a man who was already bored with the proceedings, slapping the dust from his jacket sleeve and playing with the frill of his cuff, but Chris knew better how deceptive that nonchalance could be. The man would have made a great actor had he chosen to join one of them traveling shows. Perhaps it was the years of grifting that had honed his acting abilities, but Chris knew that Ezra was like a rattlesnake, ready to strike when you least expected. He could not hear the soft words that Josiah spoke almost directly into the third man's ear but he registered the shock when the man realized Josiah was so close that they were almost touching. It amazed Chris how someone as big as Josiah could walk so softly, especially as Josiah was carrying a bad gunshot wound.

A quick glance showed that Vin was ready, their eyes meeting, silent words flowing across the space between them. It was time to finish the play, but Chris knew this was no rehearsal, knew there was no script that determined what the outcome would be. He started walking towards the leader of the three, ever aware of the coach gun at his back and ensuring he did not step into the man's firing line. Wouldn't do any good to end up getting shot in the back should everything go to hell.

"Just call me a cowboy?"

Chris could hear Buck chuckling. Truth be told, Chris hated being called a cowboy and Buck knew this. The word cowboy conjured up images of rough, ranch hands and ignorant cattle drivers, something that he had never been, nor ever intended to be. Chris almost grinned as the man stuttered over some sort of explanation for the unintended insult and it was obvious that he was thinking twice about this coming gun battle.

"No. I was just saying it ain't your fight."

"Not yet."

Vin smiled as the softly spoken words warred with the hardness on the handsome face; pleased he was not on the receiving end as Lucas James was caught in the steely green gaze. He watched the fear rise in Lucas's eyes, a predatory gleam leaping into his own as Lucas backed down, dropping his gun belt and allowing himself to be led to the jail by Judge Orin Travis.

Vin caught the inquisitive look from Chris and realized his lover would want to know why he had chosen to back up the Judge, even though he'd never laid eyes on the man before this day, and it was only fair that he explain. After all, Chris and the others had put their lives on the line just at his say so. Vin moved over to stand by Chris, waiting until the others were out of earshot before giving that explanation.

"Ain't been in town more than a few days when I caught the tail end of an argument between Potter and Lucas James. Never figured it was this bad though. And I kind of liked Potter."

Vin had gleaned from that argument, and the subsequent conversation he had overheard between the Potters, that Lucas's cattle baron uncle, Stewart James, was trying to destroy the town, buying up real estate at hugely deflated prices, and driving out those who would stand against him. Lucas was only too happy to join his uncle in that pursuit and, judging by this display today, he had proved he was willing to resort even to murder to get his own way, believing no one would dare stand up to him or his uncle.

Vin waited until Chris nodded his understanding, and then he turned away, walking slowly into the hardware store where he had been sweeping the floors less than a week before. He knelt down beside the dead storekeeper, his hand passing over the unseeing eyes, closing them forever. Virgil Potter might have been an irascible old man but his heart had been in the right place, and he'd been kind enough to Vin over the short time that he had known him. Vin sighed and moved away respectfully as he heard the choked cry from Potter's wife. He tried to offer his condolences silently, his eyes catching the shocked ones of the newly widowed Gloria Potter, but he was uncertain if she had even registered his presence.

Vin backed away as other townsfolk entered, some to comfort Mrs. Potter, others to help carry the body to the undertaker. His lips felt dry, his heart aching, and Vin decided that what he needed more than anything was the sight and sound of the man who had captured his heart. He moved swiftly through the town, already having decided where Chris would have headed first, feeling in need of a drink or two himself.

He spotted Chris sitting alone at a table at the far end of the bar, his back to the room. Vin felt a moment of concern at this lack of vigilance then realized that, for once, Chris could relax his guard as Nathan and Josiah were seated close by, watching his back. It was strange how quickly the Seven had fallen into a close comradeship, how easily they trusted each other even though their acquaintance was less than a week old. It seemed quite a shame that it had to end so soon and Vin found himself wishing it was otherwise.

He approached the table slowly, easing around in front of Chris, his voice soft and teasing.

"Hey, Cowboy. Join you?"

The welcome in those green eyes was enough to send licks of fire racing through his veins and Vin removed his hat, lowering his head slightly to mask the burning desire that must have leaped into his eyes. He slid into the seat opposite, drinking in the sight of his lover, focusing on the heightened whiskey-glow that lent color to the pale face. Long strands of sweat-soaked, blond hair fell over the tall forehead and Vin could see the trail dust clinging to the dark-clad frame, and yet Chris Larabee had never looked more beautiful to him.

As if knowing exactly what he needed, Chris slid over the full shot glass of whiskey that he had been nursing, the gesture more intimate than merely offering the bottle. Vin accepted, gratefully, relaxing fully into the chair and leaning back against the wall.

He took a moment to think about Virgil Potter, seeing the grief in Mrs. Potter's eyes as she looked upon her dead husband. He hated this feeling that tugged at his heart, the emptiness of seeing people he had taken a shine to cut down before their time. Getting involved with people always hurt, though, as he stared across the table top at the beautiful man seated opposite, he figured some pain was worth it. He had a feeling that if he stayed in this town then he would be pulled under by a weight of responsibility for these people, clipping his wings, forcing him to care about them. Vin wasn't certain he could handle that. It seemed better that he leave quickly before the kind people, like Gloria Potter, tempted him to out stay his welcome.

With decision made, Vin held the soft green eyes, aware that there was no reason for Chris to follow through on his offer of accompanying him to Tascosa. Many things were said in the aftermath of battle - and of sex - which did not hold up once the euphoria had dissipated. He knew this could easily be the last time he saw Chris but it was a risk he felt obliged to take.

"I was thinking about getting an early start for Tascosa."

"I was thinking about whiskey... a room... bed... more whiskey."

The words seemed so innocuous in the confines of the saloon and would be taken at face value by anyone overhearing them, but what the other patrons could not see was the open invitation in those eyes, aimed solely at Vin. Vin shifted in his seat, feeling his pants tighten as the blood raced into his groin. The thought of spending a few hours in a comfortable bed with Chris, rather than taking him on the hard ground, was very appealing but he was surprised that Chris would make such an offer whilst in the town. The sort of loving two men did together was not exactly acceptable in polite society, could even get them hung in some territories. Vin knew it was probably the whiskey talking but, nonetheless, if Chris was willing to risk taking him to his nice warm bed then who was Vin to argue. Vin was pulled out of his fantasy by the words that followed.

"Why don't you give it a few days?"

"With this bounty on my head I haven't got a few days."

Vin swallowed the whiskey, using it as an excuse not to maintain eye contact with Chris. They both knew he was lying but he hoped Chris would not ask him the real reason why he wanted to get out of this town as quickly as possible. As his eyes were captured and held once more, Vin knew that he could keep little secret from this man. Chris seemed to read the truth, pulling it from the depths of his soul with an ease that was almost frightening, but then Vin realized why. Here was a man who felt the same unease, the same reluctance to rejoin the human race, to become involved with people. There was a moment of silent cajoling but Vin remained steadfast in his decision to leave the next morning. Chris snorted in frustration.

"Never known a man who was in such a hurry to get himself hung."

The words brought reality crashing down upon him. Jess Kincaid had been well liked by the townsfolk in Tascosa, upright and honest, his only crime being a man who held a close resemblance to the description given on the wanted poster for Eli Joe. Finding Kincaid's body had been a surprise but Vin had never been one to turn his back on a piece of good fortune, wrongly assuming that Eli Joe had fallen foul of his own gang. When the true identity of the body was discovered, Vin had barely made it out of Tascosa alive, the lynch mob hard on his heels, but he hoped that a little time had cooled some of that anger. Hopefully enough that those townsfolk would be willing to listen to what he had to say before trying to string him up.

"Chance I got to take. Need to clear my name." He saw the anger still simmering in Chris's eyes. "Wouldn't blame you if you'd prefer to stay."

He didn't want Chris to feel obliged to leave with him, no matter what had been said before. Before Chris could answer, both men sensed the approaching bartender, and Vin relaxed his face into a neutral expression, forcing aside any physical manifestation of the tension he felt as he waited for Chris's response. He watched as Chris's eyes darted towards the man who was nonchalantly polishing the bar top barely a few feet away from them.

"What are the women like in Tascosa?"

The words spoken said one thing, but the look in those beautiful eyes said something else entirely. Vin found himself grinning, well aware that Chris couldn't care less about the scrawny whores working the single saloon in that dirt water town, responding with a little lie of his own.

"Don't come much livelier."

"See you in the morning."

As he rose to his feet, Vin caught the predatory smile that told him Chris was expecting to see him well before sun up. Vin couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face as he watched the tall, lean figure stride past Nathan and Josiah and out of the saloon, his mind already turning to thoughts of what he intended to do with that body tonight in that soft, warm bed.

When the Judge entered the saloon a few minutes later, Vin felt a moment of doubt and sank deeper into his seat, wondering if the Judge had recognized him from some bounty poster and was looking to take him in. He relaxed when it became apparent that the Judge had only one agenda: finding someone to take the sheriff's badge for a week. Thirty dollars was more than a month's pay and for just a week's work, and if he had not been set on leaving this town then he might have been tempted by the offer. Instead Vin remained silent, smiling as the Judge was forced to accept JD when no one else showed any interest in his proposal, or the money that went with it. The boy had been out West barely more than a week and already he was putting himself forward for the sheriff's post in this frontier town. Vin had to admire JD's courage even as he felt dismay for the boy's naiveté, knowing it was the rush of youth that had ignored the fact that nobody was given something for nothing in this world. Those thirty dollars would be hard earned, and JD might not even live long enough to collect them.

When his first job as sheriff became escorting Ezra Standish to the jail, Vin wondered whether the boy was now debating if he had accepted Judas money.

****

With a hot meal filling his belly, Chris left the town's only restaurant, barely giving a second glance to the older man passing him on the way out. He had other thoughts on his mind. He had his fill of whiskey earlier in the day and he had taken a room back at the boarding house, the same room he had stayed in before leaving for the Seminole village. The next item on his list was bed, but he had no intention of spending the night in it alone. As he walked through the darkened alley towards the stairs that led up the back way into the boarding house, he was not surprised to see a lean shape detach itself from the deeper shadows, and he smiled his greeting.

Together they started up the stairs, walking confidently along the narrow corridor to Chris's room. Chris left Vin to bolt the door behind them while he made his way across the darkened room to the window. He drew the heavy curtains, cutting out the rest of the world, before lighting the single oil lamp. Chris lowered the wick so only a dim orange glow filled the room, enough to drive back the darkness but not enough to allow any shadows to be cast into the street below. He straightened up and turned, melting into the warm embrace as Vin slid his arms around him. Their mouths met, exchanging soft licks and nibbles as they reacquainted themselves with the taste of the other. Chris pulled back and grinned, watching the slow burning fire rise in Vin's eyes, knowing his own were darkening with desire as he, too, was consumed by the fire building between them.

They stripped slowly, discarding the outward image they portrayed to the rest of the world with each piece of clothing until they had bared more than just their flesh. Chris took the opportunity to study the beautiful man standing naked before him, watching the play of the softly flickering light across the softly tanned flesh. He sighed in appreciation, fingers reaching out to trace the edge of a dark shadow beneath one pectoral, tracing the length of a three inch scar that could have been made by a knife cut. He chuckled gently, amused by the soft gasp as his fingers brushed against the darker flesh of a nipple. His eyes dropped to the shaft standing proud from a mass of curly brown hair, seeing a glint of moisture beading on the tip. He licked his lips, suddenly eager to taste this offering, and he dropped to his knees before Vin.

Strong fingers carded through his hair, massaging along his scalp, clenching a little tighter as the tip of his tongue teased across the flared head, sliding against the bunch of sensitive nerve endings before lapping up the dewdrop of precome. His hands ran up the outer edge of the strong legs from knee to hip before curving around to cup the firm ass cheeks.

"Yesss."

Vin's sibilant whisper gave both permission and appreciation for the soft lips that enveloped him. Chris sighed, feeling Vin's hands tightening around the strands of hair as he was encouraged to take more of the hardened shaft into his mouth. He held Vin's body firmly, preventing Vin from thrusting, wanting to enjoy the serenity of the moment. The quietness of the room was broken only by the wonderful sound of Vin's ragged breathing as he quickly gave into the desire coursing through his body. The hazy glow of the lamp disguised the sterility of the room, and yet it enhanced the perfection of the flush skin that glowed a burnished gold beneath the soft light.

"Chrisss."

He raised his eyes, like a supplicant to a god standing high above him, but the thoughts racing through his head held no purity. Chris grinned around the mouthful of solid flesh, saliva dribbling down his chin as his tongue coiled around the succulent offering. Quivers were racing through Vin's body, stomach muscles rippling, fingers clenching and releasing rhythmically with each long suck upon his straining erection. Vin arched his head back, exposing the column of throat, a small keening cry falling from his lips as Chris's mouth was filled with the bittersweet essence of his lover.

Vin fell to his knees, eyes almost black with satiated desire, dragging Chris into a desperate yet tender kiss, devouring the mouth that had claimed him so completely only moments before. He dragged his mouth away, moaning softly as he nuzzled into Chris's neck.

"Hmmm... You smell real good, Chris."

Chris was pleased he had made the effort to visit the bathhouse earlier and, as he wrapped a long curl of brown hair around his finger, feeling how soft it was, he knew he was not the only one to have bathed that day. The thought that Vin had made such an effort for him was immensely pleasing and he let his hand slide across the smooth, freshly shaved cheek, inhaling deeply, letting the clean scent of this man fill him.

"Ain't the only one, Vin."

Vin chuckled, a rich sound that suited the mellowness of the room.

"Reckon we both needed to scrape off the trail dust."

Chris shivered as a hand pushed between their close-pressed bodies, snaking down until it grasped his aching flesh. He gasped as a calloused thumb swirled over the head, smearing the precome.

"Reckon you got something down there needs tending to, Cowboy."

"Reckon you could be right. Got any ideas?"

"Reckon I could figure out something."

"Then I'm in your hands."

"Sure are."

A squeeze of the fingers around his hard flesh accompanied those words and Chris closed his eyes, throwing back his head, waiting for the sensations to build higher. Soft lips nuzzled at the base of his throat and he cried out as sharp teeth sank into the vulnerable skin, the exquisite pain flaring along every nerve.

He opened his eyes wide in shock when Vin pulled away, feeling chilled as the warm body broke contact.

"What..?"

"Ain't often I get to use a real soft bed. Reckon we should make the most of it."

Chris watched as Vin rose gracefully, muscles rippling fluidly beneath silken skin, and then he grinned as Vin clambered onto the bed in so ungainly a fashion, throwing back covers, and settling on his front with his ass in the air. Chris gained his feet and lurched towards the bed, still light-headed from where the blood had raced to his groin. He saw the mischievous grin that Vin aimed back towards him as he waggled his rear end.

"Reckon I figured something out."

"Reckon you did."

Chris rummaged through his saddlebag before clambering onto the bed beside Vin, opening the small tin he kept in there and scooping out some of the contents. He brought grease-slicked fingers to the exposed opening, pushing one finger, then two, deep inside while his other hand stroked the length of Vin's back as if gentling a nervous colt. Chris knew Vin was ready for more when Vin's body began to push back in a counterpoint rhythm against the fingers thrusting into him. Chris crawled between the parted legs, smearing more of the grease along the length of his shaft before easing forward into the receptive body.

"Yeah... reckon I figured it just right."

Chris moaned softly as he was enveloped in the tight heat.

"You... sure did, Vin. So good."

Chris wrapped his hands around Vin's hips, holding them both steady, and they rocked together slowly. As he drew back, Chris became mesmerized by the sight of his shaft plunging into the hot channel, feeling the tightness along the entire length as he pushed in to the hilt. Small gasps and a clenching of internal muscles accompanied each forward thrust as he repeatedly stroked across that special place deep inside. His hand left its resting place on one hip, reaching beneath Vin's body to curl around the burgeoning erection, his grease slicked fingers sliding along the length in time to his own thrusts inside the beautiful body.

Chris felt the first flashes of fire twist deep in his belly, felt his balls tighten as the incredible sensations assailed him. He cried out softly as he emptied himself into the willing flesh, feeling the heat of Vin's climax scald his fingers. He collapsed over the slightly smaller frame as Vin sank into the soft mattress then carefully pulled out before rolling to Vin's side. Gentle fingers pushed aside the sweat-soaked strands that were sticking to his forehead.

"You did good too, Cowboy."

Chris treated his lover to a contented grin and closed his eyes, drifting away on the euphoria of the moment while strong yet gentle hands caressed his cheek. He sat up abruptly and reached for the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the side, easing out the stopper and taking a single swallow of the fiery liquid. Vin accepted the offered bottle and Chris watched throat muscles work as Vin swallowed a mouthful before handing the bottle back. The stopper was replaced and the bottle set back down on the bedside table.

A bubble of laughter welled up as Chris took in the perplexed expression on Vin's face, watching those midsummer blue eyes flick towards the half-empty bottle.

"Whiskey... room... bed... more whiskey. Reckon I can sleep now."

Vin grinned in remembrance of Chris's saloon declaration, settling back down in the soft bed. Chris waited until Vin was comfortable and then he dropped his head onto Vin's shoulder and wrapped his arms around the spare frame. He closed his eyes, his lips curling into a gentle smile as he felt the whisper of a kiss against his hair and strong arms tightening around him in response.

****

Cold gray fingers of dawn teased through the loose weave of the poorly made curtains, sneaking around the edges to extinguish the soft glow of the lamp with its harsh reality.

The sounds of a town waking up filtered into the room, the rumble of a wagon along the main street, the clink of reins and the opening of shutters.

With his sharp hearing, Vin could hear movement in neighboring rooms as windows were pushed open and water splashed into basins. The echo of footprints in the hallway followed the slamming of a nearby door, gradually fading as the heavy-footed owner tramped down the stairs, spurs jingling like sleigh bells.

Vin eased up onto one elbow and looked down at the still sleeping man, knowing it was unusual for Chris to sleep so deeply especially with all the noise around them. The lines of hard living were softened in sleep, the long, blond lashes curling provocatively against the high cheekbones. Chris's mouth was set in a dreamy smile, the lips still plump from their passionate kisses during the night. He reached out and touched the slight indentation in the lower lip, smiling as the tip of a tongue sneaked out to taste his finger.

As he watched, those eyelashes flickered then rose to reveal sleepy green eyes that sent silent messages of welcome to the watcher. Chris stretched, throwing back his head, exposing his vulnerable throat and revealing the red welts of possession Vin had placed there. Vin reached out again, this time his fingers caressing the livid bruise from last night before tracing the mottled bruising left over from their previous encounter. He planted a tender kiss on the fresh fiery mark and felt the vibration as Chris moaned softly.

It made sense for Vin to have left before dawn, reducing the risk of him being seen leaving Chris's room but he had felt no inclination to part, sleeping safe and secure in Chris's warm embrace. It wasn't often that he gave in to the desire to hold and be held, normally being content with just the brief contact allowed for sexual lust fulfilled with whatever body had taken his interest - and often his money. However, there was a vast difference between those bodies and the one lying in his arms. They had been a means of slaking the lust, of easing the tension; Chris was no whore, bought and paid for by the hour. Chris was his lover in all sense of the word.

Vin's lips trailed up the column of throat, kissing and licking along the strong jawline, feeling the slight rasp of fresh whisker growth before descending upon the luscious lips. His grease-slicked fingers prepared the receptive channel, and Vin sighed as his aching flesh sank into the inferno of Chris's body. They made love slowly, enjoying the soft bed beneath them as, once more, they brought each other to the height of passion, then they basked in the afterglow as the sensations tingled throughout their bodies.

Eventually, they had to bow to the inevitable.

Vin dragged himself from the warm bed, dressing quickly, aware of the silent eyes that appraised his every movement. He leaned back down and kissed Chris passionately.

"See you later, Cowboy."

Chris licked his lips, as if still tasting Vin, eyes glowing with pleasure and amusement at this new endearment Vin had taken to calling him. Vin winked, knowing Chris would never accept that epithet from anyone other than him.

Once he was certain the coast was clear, Vin slipped from the room and took the back stairs out of the boarding house.

****

Chris could see Buck running back and forth across the dusty street, thrusting newspapers into the hands of the townsfolk and he sighed, shaking his head. It looked as though Buck was trying to make a new conquest out of Mrs. Travis. Not that he could blame his friend. She was, after all, an attractive woman and Buck had no qualms over whether a woman was married or not. It was the one area where they truly differed but then, Chris had been a married man once; a family man. He carried on down the boardwalk, ignoring the intrigued look Mary Travis threw in his direction, and entered the hardware store.

There were a few supplies he needed before he and Vin could head out for Tascosa, and he was relieved that Mrs. Potter had opened the store even though her husband had been in the ground less than a day. There was nowhere else in this town to pick up supplies and fancy goods and, from the feel of things, he doubted if even this store would be here should he ever pass this way again.

Chris checked along the shelves and found what he needed, placing the packages of bullets on the counter top. Then he wandered around some more, his fingers smoothing over a black and white striped shirt. Strange how he felt less in mourning for his family since Vin came into his life. He doubted he had anything in his saddlebag that was not dark these days, and yet the urge to wear something slightly less somber was becoming greater with each day spent with Vin.

He pulled back from his thoughts sharply, realizing how he sounded to himself, almost like a love-struck kid, but he was no kid to be infatuated with handsome strangers.

Can't exactly call Vin a stranger though... least not in the biblical sense.

He sniggered at his own thoughts, squirming slightly at the remembered fullness from their earlier lovemaking, and images of Vin bathed in orange lamplight came unbidden. Chris had to admit that there was something more than mere infatuation between them, and he fully intended to ride with Vin until he discovered exactly what that something was.

Hell. Haven't been this foolish over someone since Sarah.

Chris pulled a small bankroll of notes from his pocket and counted over payment for the bullets, barely registering Mary Travis as he accepted his change until he heard her voice address Mrs. Potter by her given name. Chris looked up to find Mary staring at him, her pretty face set into that expression he had grown to hate after Sarah and Adam died; one full of condolence.

"You're friend, Buck, told me you lost your wife and son in an accident. I lost my husband. I know something of what you've been through."

Chris felt every muscle in his body tense in fury. What right had she to stick her nose into his private business? What right had she to offer false condolences for a woman and child she had never known? Had she come home to find her husband dead, burned alive in the house they had shared? Had she spent three years trying to find out why someone had hated his family so much that they could murder an innocent woman and her child in such a horrific fashion?

He wondered if she spent nights, soaked in sweat, twisting in her sheets as she watched her family die over and over, feeling guilty that she wasn't there when it happened?

"No, Ma'am. You don't."

Chris stalked from the hardware store leaving a stunned Mary behind. The day no longer held any beauty for him, and his desire to shrug off his mourning apparel had evaporated like water beneath a hot desert sun. Remembrance of Vin, and the wondrous night they had shared, was swept aside in his fury.

****

Vin was strolling slowly towards the livery when he noticed the stream of angry looking people heading towards the jail. He saw JD standing outside, rifle in hand, trying his best to look dangerous but the crowd sensed the boy's empty threat, surging towards him, eager to release Lucas James before his uncle made life even more difficult for the townsfolk.

With a sigh of exasperation, Vin realized he could not stand idly by while Lucas got away with murder and JD got injured. He pulled the mare's leg from its holster and shot once into the air, the sharp retort scattering a few of those angry citizen's in panic, and causing the rest to freeze then turn to face him.

Vin pushed his way through the mob and stepped up onto the boardwalk beside JD.

"We don't want your kind in this town. You bring nothing but trouble."

For one terrifying moment, Vin wondered if this man knew about the night he had just spent in Chris's arms, but then he realized their leader was appraising not the man but the buckskin clothing he wore, his long, shaggy hair and his scuffed boots. He knew his appearance was rough and worn, maybe even a little native, and considered how this might appear to these more genteel, white townsfolk.

"Can't be worse than what you already got."

Despite everything, it took a woman to finally dissipate that mob. Vin found himself held by grief-stricken yet courageous eyes, reading the silent message of thanks for his intervention, as well as concern for his well being. He felt his heart hammer in his chest, knowing that it was the fear of entanglement with everyday people that filled him, and yet he felt a strange warmth too, of acceptance. Gloria Potter still considered him to be the same poor vagabond child - needing a good meal and some Christian charity--that had turned up in her store a few weeks earlier. Her caring attitude had not changed even after he proved he was no child by standing up to the men who tried to string up Nathan Jackson.

He felt the fear calm, felt a small sense of belonging coil in his chest that was far different from the sense of belonging he felt in Chris's arms--and yet of equal importance. Vin nodded to her, almost wishing he could give himself a little more time in this town to sort out all these conflicting emotions.

JD breathed a quiet word of thanks and, by the time Vin turned back, Mrs. Potter had walked away. Deciding he had nothing better to do, Vin dropped into a seat outside the jail house and thought about Gloria Potter. There was another sensation deep in his chest that he did not like, the feeling that he was running away but, unlike his flight from the noose, he knew there was more at stake here than just his neck.

Truth was he was starting to feel like a coward, running at the first sign of anyone who gave a damn about him.

Ain't true. Ain't running from Chris.

Vin looked along the main street as if seeing the townsfolk for the very first time. His eyes moved from them to the boarded up store fronts, watching as a former owner started packing up a covered wagon with furniture. Vin wondered if the man had accepted some paltry offer from Stewart James rather than put his family at further, unnecessary risk. The murder of Virgil Potter would have terrible repercussions for the town, weakening the resolve of those who might have stayed otherwise - unless Lucas was brought to justice.

"Ain't my fight though. Got my own problems."

Vin shook away the image of Mrs. Potter's grief-stricken eyes and pushed himself back onto his feet. He had preparations to make for the journey ahead.

****

Chris was too angry to care about the little drama being played out further into town, not realizing Vin was in the thick of it. He had his own agenda. He spotted Buck through the window of the barber's store and entered silently, only half listening to the diatribe falling from Buck's lips as he discussed his favorite topic with any man who would listen.

Chris grabbed the barber's wrist, numbing the fingers until the man let go of the cutthroat razor then he leaned over, grasping Buck in a headlock, and placed the razor just beneath Buck's jaw. He pressed it against Buck's throat so closely that it was surprising that he did not break the skin.

"My past is my own, Buck. Not something you can use for conversation."

This was what really infuriated him; that Buck could so belittle the memory of Sarah and Adam that he could use them as a chat up line for the feisty widow. He thought Buck had loved them almost as much as he, remembered the way Buck would speak of his family in such a loving way as they rode the trail looking for fresh brooding mares to add to the Larabee stock. Had it all meant so little to Buck? Had Sarah and Adam been just a conversation piece?

"She asked."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The nosy editor of a small town newspaper asks Buck a question and, bearing in mind the way she had already twisted the truth about Nathan's near-lynching, Buck had just answered without giving it a second thought.

Chris had visions of seeing his pure memories of Sarah and Adam twisted into some grotesque drama just to increase the circulation of that woman's damned newspaper. At least he was riding out today so he wouldn't be here to read the full gory details of the Larabee murders in print tomorrow.

"Guess you didn't hear me."

"I hear you... and I'm sorry, Chris, but what the hell am I supposed to say when people ask?"

"Nothing."

It was no one's business. It was his life, his family... his tragedy, and Chris did not feel like sharing it with a bunch of ghouls in what was rapidly becoming a ghost town. Chris stroked the razor across Buck's flesh, hearing the rasp as the stubble was lifted, feeling an evil temptation to swipe off half of that mustache Buck had been sporting for years. He resisted the temptation, handed back the razor and left as silently as he had arrived, leaving Buck contemplating his words.

Already, half the morning had gone and Chris was more eager than ever to put some distance between him and this town. With purposeful strides, he made his way to the livery to saddle up his horse, expecting to meet Vin nearby.

****

"You ready to ride, Cowboy?"

"Yep."

Vin watched as Chris ensured the cinch was tight on his horse before checking that his saddlebag was firmly seated. When Chris glanced up at Vin, giving him a crooked smile that was at odds with the relief and pleasure held in his eyes, it made Vin realize that Chris needed him as much as he needed Chris. Having someone you could trust riding with you made every journey less harrowing, less fraught with danger. Having someone to watch your back while you slept, having someone to share a mug of coffee or a meal... or just having somebody there to make you remember that you are not alone in this world. All these things were so important to a man on the trail, and yet both of them had ridden alone for so long, consumed by their own fear of dependence on other people.

It felt good knowing Chris would be with him. Even his fear of being strung up like a mangy dog before ever being able to utter a single word in his own defense had been banished temporarily with the knowledge that he had someone willing to intercede on his behalf. If they would not listen to him then perhaps Chris would be able to make them listen. Perhaps Chris would make all the difference between him hanging and clearing his name.

He was almost ready to mount up when the first shots were fired. They both knew what it meant and, with a look, they both accepted that they were honor bound to finish what Vin had started; allowing the Judge to bring justice for Mr. Potter.

More shots were fired from the moment they started towards the saloon, and they dodged quickly, firing at their assailants as they sought cover. Vin grimaced, angry that Chris had been a little quicker on his feet and was ahead of him. The protector in him wanted to be in front, placing his body between Chris and any potentially fatal bullets that might find his lover but, instead, a bullet from Chris's gun found one of James's boys.

They paused by the side of the saloon, a flicker of his eyes was all that was needed as Chris motioned his intention. Vin tightened his lips into a hard line, firing off shots to cover Chris as he threw a small barrel through the saloon window. Chris dived into the saloon, and a quick glance showed that he had found cover behind an upended round table, ducking as bullets ricocheted off the thick wooden rim.

Lucas James and one of his boys came charging through the doors a moment later and Vin felt a stab of fear that they may have managed to hit Chris during their escape bid. With that dread coiling in his belly, Vin aimed at one of the fleeing riders, not caring that he would be shooting Lucas James in the back.

"JD. Get down."

Vin fumed as the shot was lost, watching as Lucas galloped out of range, and then he sighed and gave JD a gentler look. Perhaps it was for the best, especially as Chris seemed to have this principle about never shooting a man in the back. He ran a hand across the nape of his neck, partly in frustration at missing the opportunity to rid the world of scum like Lucas James, and partly because this incident meant they might still have unfinished business in the town. It was almost as if the fates were conspiring to keep him here. He glanced back to see if his horse was still where he had left him, considering the odds of him being able to catch up with Lucas before he reached the safety of his uncle's ranch.

"Got to get Nathan."

JD's almost garbled words suddenly struck him, stopping Vin's heart in his chest, and with a violent twist he lunged for the batwing doors instead, shoving them aside, eyes sliding quickly around the room until they fell upon the man he sought. Chris looked back at him, eyes showing concern but no pain, and Vin felt his frantic heartbeat slow in relief.

"Judge's been shot. Sent JD for Nathan."

"Yeah, and he nearly needed Nathan himself when he crossed my line of fire."

"Lucas James?"

"Got away."

"Damn."

Vin had moved closer while they spoke, carefully eyeing the wounded Judge who seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness. He spun fast when the doors burst open again but it was only Nathan, medicine bag in hand. Vin moved back to give Nathan room, listening in as the healer started to work on the Judge.

"You hurt, Chris?"

He caught his breath when Nathan addressed Chris directly, suddenly registering the blood caking Chris's dark shirt.

"No. It's all his."

"Just checking, though I'm not sure you'd tell me even though I asked."

"Calling me a liar, Nathan?"

"Calling you mule-headed, like the rest of them that rode with us to the Seminole village. Now why don't you go fix yourself and Vin some of that whiskey? Reckon you could both do with a shot round about now."

Chris nodded, and Vin realized that the adrenaline from the gun battle had stopped shooting through their veins and even he was starting to feel the less desirable after-effects.

"I could use one too."

"You old enough to drink, JD?" Vin ribbed the younger man, still feeling euphoric from the battle, but mostly from finding his lover alive and whole.

"If I'm old enough to be a sheriff then I'm old enough to drink."

Vin watched a tired grin spread across Chris's face as he grabbed three shot glasses and a bottle of Red-eye from behind the bar. Vin was tempted to ignore the bartender who was only just starting to gain his feet having hidden in the furthest corner, but the man took on that hardened expression that said he wanted reimbursement for the liquor. Vin thumbed towards the wounded man.

"It's on the Judge."

The door burst open again and this time it was Mary Travis who paused on the threshold, hand going to her mouth in shock as she recognized the wounded man. She raced forward and dropped to her knees beside her father-in-law.

"Orin?"

"Bullet passed right through but it's not good, Mrs. Travis. Need to get him off this dirty floor."

"Bring him to my place. He's been staying in the spare room."

Vin caught the glance that Nathan directed towards him and Chris, and he read the silent request in the dark eyes. With a sigh of acceptance he nodded, downed the remainder of the whiskey from his glass and moved over towards the Judge.

"You take his legs, Vin. Reckon I'm already covered in enough blood so taking this end's not going to make matters any worse."

Vin nodded, knowing what a devil it was to get blood stains out of his buckskin coat. "'Preciate that, Cowboy."

Vin gave Chris an unrepentant grin when he saw the green eyes flick up at the name that had become a sort of endearment and then, between them, they carried Travis over to the Clarion offices.

****

Leaving the Judge in Mary and Nathan's capable hands, Chris and Vin made their way back down the narrow stairs and onto the boardwalk. Chris stopped at the edge, holding onto the upright that supported the wooden roof, his mind in turmoil as he considered his options. He didn't owe these people anything, and they sure as hell were not paying him to protect them, but still he felt a twinge of discomfort, as if he was obligated to this town in some way.

He recalled the sense of pre-ordination that had filled him after leaving Eagle Bend several weeks back. That feeling had been nagging at him, growing stronger as he turned his horse in this direction rather than head for Tombstone as he had originally intended, as if his destiny lay here. As he felt Vin come up behind him, Chris had to concede that if he had not given into the pull of this town then he might never have met Vin, but was Vin the sole reason for him being here?

He gave an angry sigh, remonstrating with himself over his uncharacteristic lapse. There was no such thing as Fate or destiny. As far as he was concerned each man chose his own path, and he was right about something else too; he didn't owe these people anything, and they had no call on him.

When Vin dropped a hand onto his arm, a questioning look filling the blue eyes, Chris answered the unspoken question softly despite the ire that filled him.

"We leave in an hour. You mind keeping a watch for James's boys till then?"

"Sure. I'll go hang around the saloon."

Chris gave a wry grin as Vin turned and walked away, certain he'd made the right decision. Vin was as eager as he to leave this town far behind, and Chris knew that reason had nothing to do with the bounty on Vin's head but was more to do with the way certain townsfolk were slipping beneath the defenses Vin had raised. Momentarily, he wondered if Mrs. Potter knew who had cleaned up all the broken glass and pottery in her store, or who had scrubbed her husband's bloodstains from the wooden floor. On his way to the restaurant the previous night, Chris had caught sight of Vin sneaking into Potter's store and he had been intrigued enough to stop and watch for a while. There had been an initial temptation to go up to Vin, maybe even offer to help, but then he had realized it was a private matter, perhaps payment of a debt owed.

Chris sat down in the sturdy looking chair placed on the boardwalk, and pondered the enigma that was Vin Tanner. He lit a cheroot then leaned back, letting the tobacco soothe his jagged nerves. The aftermath of the gun battle had left him feeling all jittery and, although Chris knew of a far better way to ease the tension, dragging Vin into his bed at this hour of the day would look more than a mite suspicious.

Not that I'd have to drag him there.

He couldn't help the foolish grin that swept across his face but quickly controlled it when he considered that someone might be watching. After a while, Chris ground out the lit end and placed the unused stub back into his pocket for another time. He eased out of the chair and crossed the main street to go check on his horse, wanting to ensure that all was ready so they did not have to delay much longer.

He grinned when he found a poncho lying across his saddle, realizing it was a parting gift from Josiah even though there was no note attached. His fingers traced the bright stripes of earth colors, all reds, browns and oranges. It was thin enough to protect him from the heat of the sun and his clothing clear of some of the trail dust, and yet it was thick enough to keep off the desert chill at night. A few months ago he would have been shocked by the seeming gaudiness of the garment, but now it seemed just right. Chris placed it back on his saddle, already determined to wear it when he rode out, determined to swing by the old church to give his thanks.

By the time he had finished ensuring all was ready, a glance at his pocket watch showed that most of that hour had passed but Chris felt obliged to complete one other duty in this town. He re-entered the Clarion offices and climbed the stairs quietly, easing into the room.

Mary Travis turned to face him, momentary panic fading when she realized it was an ally rather than a foe.

"How's he doing?"

She stared at him, eyes doing what her dignity refused; begging him to stay.

"You're leaving."

"Yeah."

He turned away, walking back to the door but stopped, deciding he had to at least try and make her understand that a frontier town like this was no place for a woman, that she would be better off just going back to wherever she came from. Her answer was no different to the one he had expected and he bowed his head. Though he could not agree, he understood her reasons for staying. It was moot point anyway. The town was dying, slowly being choked in the stranglehold Stewart James had over it as he sought to get rid of the people infesting the prime cattle grazing land that he would annex to his spread. Chris had a strong feeling that, should he ever pass this way again, then all he would find was a ghost town.

The soft creak of the stairs alerted Chris to an intruder and he turned as Vin slipped through the door, listening closely as Vin mentioned all he had overheard in the saloon.

"They're just waiting for him to die."

Her bitterness took Chris aback but he knew she was right, and he had a nasty feeling that if they left then the Judge would be dead before they had gone two miles. Neither Stewart nor Lucas James could afford to allow the sole witness to Virgil Potter's murder to live - especially as that man was a Circuit Judge, and even if it meant having a troop of Union soldiers descend upon the town. He looked at Vin, an idea forming in his head, but he needed to be assured Vin would agree to yet another delay before stating that idea out loud. Blue eyes gave reluctant consent.

"Maybe it's better he does."

****

It was all so surreal, riding to the cemetery with Mary Travis walking behind dressed in full mourning regalia, accompanied by Chris whose dark clothing made him appear just as somber. Mary had paid the gravedigger a dollar to have the grave readied as quickly as possible and Vin was pleased to see the money was wisely spent. The gaping hole in the ground conjured up unwelcome memories from the distant past, of seeing his mother's casket lowered into the earth--and he could see a reflection of his unwanted memories on the faces of both JD and Chris as each dealt with their own demons. Vin had heard about Mary Travis's bereavement and, although her face was concealed behind the dark veil, he expected she was reliving her personal loss too.

Vin started to drag the coffin from the bed of the buckboard, eyes shooting sideways at first JD and then Chris when the thing barely shifted. It took all three of them to carry it down and lay it across the ropes JD had laid out. As they lowered the amazingly heavy coffin into the ground, Vin heard Chris grind out a few words to JD.

"What you put in here?"

"Rocks."

Vin grunted in pain as he tried to stop his end dropping, his muscles straining in an attempt to keep the coffin level, concerned that it was going to slip at any moment and go crashing into the grave in a less than decorous manner. He gave JD a hard look.

"You didn't have to put in so many."

Vin shook his head at JD's reasoning and glanced up, catching the strain on Chris's face, seeing the beads of perspiration rolling down his cheek and dripping from his chin. He shook off a desire to catch those salty droplets, lap them from the firm body, turning his thoughts away before the rest of his body keyed into those lustful images and betrayed him.

With relief they let the coffin drop once it was lowered enough out of sight, wincing at the thud that, fortunately, was muffled by six feet of earth packed around it. When JD asked if they ought to say something, Vin felt his patience snap along with his disbelief.

"It's a coffin full of rocks, JD."

Of course it didn't help that Chris chose that moment to have a near-fit of giggles, dragging off his hat and casting down his head to avoid eye contact with anyone. Sunlight blazed from the clean golden strands that fell across the mirth-filled eyes, easing away Vin's annoyance at JD and this whole bizarre situation.

"I know. I put them there. But shouldn't we look like we're doing something? Like a prayer?"

"Think he'd appreciate that. I know I would."

Vin noticed a tear rolling down Chris's cheek as he tried to contain his laughter at Mary's serious tone. He saw Chris wipe it away surreptitiously before angling his head up to check if they were still being watched. When Chris looked back, Vin gave him a soft grin as he gave the all clear, but his pleasure was stripped away by the tilt of Mary Travis's head as she made it obvious that she expected Chris to walk her back to the Clarion offices. Vin could not see her expression clearly through the veil, but he did not need to be a genius to recognize the signals she was giving off through her body language. Suddenly, he knew that he may have a rival for Chris's affection should they stay in this town much longer, and he was uncertain who would win.

As he followed the handsome couple back along the center of the main street, Vin considered all he knew of Chris, casting his own feelings aside. He believed he had seen more than mere lust in those smoky green eyes, but even if there was far more to their relationship, would Chris risk snubbing her attentions just to be with him? Or would Chris accept the beautiful widow's advances, possibly even pursue them?

The thought of Chris being with this woman was a heavy weight in his gut and he realized he was feeling the first pangs of jealousy.

****

It was not exactly how he had planned to spend last night.

Chris stared out of the window but his thoughts were trained inward, thinking back to his expectation of spending a night on the trail, sleeping beneath the stars in Vin's arms. Instead he had sat in a hard chair, wrapped in a blanket, watching over a man he barely knew and finding he had far more time to think than he truly wanted.

He remembered the possessive way Mary Travis had taken his arm, the tilt of her head, the angling of her body into his and he sighed. She was a good-looking woman, strong and feisty, but he found himself comparing her to his Sarah--and finding her wanting. Where Mary Travis was all winter, with her alabaster skin, her ash blond hair and her cold gray-blue eyes, his Sarah had been his autumn. When he pictured Sarah he saw her rich auburn hair falling in waves over her creamy skin; and he recalled the warmth of her presence, reflected in her soft blue eyes and the coral of her generous mouth.

And Vin? Vin was his summer, with those hot gazes from cornflower blue eyes that scorched his skin, the sun-lightened brown hair and softly tanned flesh that gave his body a healthy glow. Everything about Vin was summer; from the deceptively lazy air that recalled childhood memories of lying in a corn-ripened field, basking in the sun, to the intensity of passion that burned brightly, warming him to the core of his being.

In comparison, winter was such a cold time. He had already seen those glacial eyes try to freeze him out when he confronted her over the lies she published on the incident that brought the three of them together. In his heart he knew Vin and Mary were such opposites, and though ice could be melted, and winter could thaw into spring, Chris knew he had always preferred the summer.

Dawn had come eventually, casting its gray light about the room and pushing any further thought aside. The sound of movement drew his attention back to the figure on the bed.

"Where am I?"

"Room I rent. Safe."

They talked for a while, the heaviness of his earlier thoughts still holding sway over his mind, coloring his answers.

What did he believe in? Certainly not as much as he once had but, somehow, he knew that being with Vin would restore some of the faith he had lost three years ago when he returned to a burnt out shell that had once been his home. Chris knew the Judge was angling for something, and it was that feeling of having unfinished business that allowed him to hear the man out.

****

It was fun... in a dangerous sort of way, but fun nonetheless. Chris recalled the camaraderie between the group that rode out to Stewart James's ranch, the way the six of them had known, almost instinctively, the role each were to play. Watching them all working together had been amazing. From his vantage point he had seen Vin deal with the sentry on the roof - like licking butter off a knife - and he had witnessed the smooth manner by which Ezra managed to get Lucas James alone. Josiah had plucked the gun from James's main henchman with the ease of a man taking candy from a baby--and Nathan had blended right on into the scene, watching all their backs.

Although he'd been a little short with JD, the boy had done real good. When he had the chance to stop and look back Chris was amazed when he realized that the posse following them was only half the number he had envisaged. It appeared JD had managed to sabotage far more horses than Chris had supposed. Still, Buck had been a welcome sight nonetheless. It truly was a good thing he came along when he did, and Chris felt a moment of guilt as he recalled his sarcastic remark to Vin after Buck turned down the original offer to accompany them out to the James ranch.

Buck had never been the most reliable of people, being easily distracted by anything wearing a skirt, but he had never let Chris down when it truly mattered. His appearance when they needed him the most made Chris aware that he had been wrong about other things too. He had been wrong to come down so hard on him over that incident with Mary Travis, and it belittled their friendship to even think for a single minute that Buck might not have truly cared about Sarah and Adam. Feeling a little shamefaced, Chris knew he would still have one more item of unfinished business before he and Vin took off for Tascosa. He needed to sit down with Buck and reaffirm their friendship.

With that intention in mind, Chris glanced across at Buck, his eyes silently making that request and seeing Buck's blue eyes crinkle up in acceptance.

****

Thirty days. Until I get back, and a dollar a day plus board. That was what the Judge had offered and Vin listened as JD, Josiah, Nathan, Buck and Ezra accepted. He waited, wanted to hear what Chris decided before making his own decision but the luxury was not given to him. Travis asked him directly.

Vin considered the people in this town, but thought more about Mrs. Potter and her children. He knew that having the protection of a strong group of lawkeepers, if only for a month, might make all the difference between her having a reasonable chance of a good life or being forced to pack up everything and cast herself upon the pity of distant relatives. Vin knew how that felt, though as a small boy he had been given little say in the matter.

But more than that, he had enjoyed working with these six men, had liked having people he could depend upon watching his back when he was in a tight spot. He remembered how well they had worked together to recapture Lucas James, each man doing his part to ensure they all rode out of that compound alive. Even Buck had come through for them when they needed him most, waiting to ambush the riders James sent out after them.

His only fear of committing himself to these thirty days was that Chris would say no to the Judge's offer; that Chris would move on without him, but it was a gamble he had to take.

"Got things needing taken care of... but I guess they'll keep."

"Chris?"

Vin held his breath and waited.

"I got a feeling I'm going to regret this."

An easy grin spread slowly over Vin's face when he heard the soft reply. No doubt Chris would be right in some ways, but Vin was adamant that there would be one thing he would not let Chris regret, and that was his decision to stay in Vin's life.

THE END


End file.
